


Close Enough to Taste

by MusicalLuna



Category: Psych
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Psychfic, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-12
Updated: 2009-09-12
Packaged: 2019-03-13 08:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Will he kiss her or won't he? One simple question has them both hanging at the edge.





	Close Enough to Taste

**Author's Note:**

> For Mia. I adore her, and so I asked her what she'd most love to see in a fic. She said something oozing with UST. And this particular idea was spawned from a conversation between she and Jenn about one such situation...
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Psych_ or the characters.

Beyond the front window of the Psych office the beach was invisible, cloaked in darkness.

The office itself was brightly lit, each of the myriad lights switched on, dousing the space in warm light. The TV over the bookcase was on, tuned in to the seven o'clock news just loud enough to hear if paying attention.

Shawn was seated in his desk chair in the center of the office and had it leaned back as far as it would go; he reached over to the desk, pulling a miniature basketball off of its surface and tossed it up into the air so that it grazed the ceiling before coming back down into his hands. “I'm tired,” he whined. “Let's take a break.”

From her place on the sofa that sat just inside the front window, Juliet sighed. “Shawn, we're going to be taking a break as soon as Gus gets back with dinner. The Chief gave you full access to these casefiles. That doesn't happen very often. Don't you want to take advantage of it? You could break the case if you get a vision while we're looking through these.”

Shawn grimaced and tossed the ball into the air again. When he caught it again, he heaved a put-upon sigh, letting the chair spring upright, which then helped lever him onto his feet. “You're right, of course, Jules.”

He tossed the ball back onto the desk, ignoring it when it rolled off the surface and headed for parts unknown.

Flopping down on the opposite end of the couch, Shawn puffed out a breath. “All right. Hit me.”

Juliet raised a thick wad of folders as though to smack him over the head with it and he yelped, throwing his arms up.

“No, wait! Don't hit me! Don't hit me!”

She grinned and pushed the stack into his hands. “You're such a baby sometimes,” she said, reaching into the cardboard box at her feet for yet more files.

Shawn's jaw dropped in mock-affront, the folder coming up over his heart. “Jules, how can you be so cruel?”

Juliet wrinkled her nose, a smile puckering her lips. “You just make it so _easy_ , Shawn.”

“Guh!” The psychic clasped his hands over his heart, jerking once, and then collapsed to the side, the crown of his head brushing her thigh. He lay there, still, tongue hanging out of his mouth in an oh-so-elegant pantomime of death.

Juliet barely managed to smother a grin. “Dead men don't crack cases, Shawn.”

One hazel eye cracked open. “And dead men don't get made fun of by their best friends.”

Juliet quickly pulled her gaze away from his. “Don't dish out what you can't take yourself,” she said primly, eyes focused on the olive green folder in her lap.

When she continued to pointedly ignore him, Shawn sighed again and finally hoisted himself upright. “This has got to be the worst way I've ever tried to spark a vision,” he grumbled, pulling one foot up underneath him. The tip of his knee ghosted past the back of Juliet's thigh and she shifted almost imperceptibly.

For the next few minutes they were quiet, reading together in the amicable quiet with a reporter providing nice, bland commentary about a new dating service where men and women got together to cook at a soup kitchen and meet other singles.

Then Shawn started to get fidgety.

He slouched sideways, propping his head up with his hand and the tips of his hair tickled Juliet's shoulder through the thin material of her the white blouse she wore. She adjusted slightly and neither of them moved for another minute, except to turn a page.

Then Shawn's head tilted. "Wait..."

"What?" Juliet asked, glancing over at his file.

"Hmm? Oh. Nothing." He frowned. "I just didn't know that the Fosters' housekeeper was from San Martin."

She looked more interested.

"Is that important?"

He frowned a moment longer then his eyebrow rose. "No. Just interesting. We stopped in San Martin when I worked on the cruise line."

She hummed and went back to her reading.

One leg began to get a little numb and Juliet unwound them, stretching her feet, bare but for a pair of sheer hose, out in front of her. It wasn't until a good thirty seconds later that she realized her hip was pressed into Shawn's elbow.

This time she and Shawn moved as one. She angled her back toward the corner of the couch and Shawn straightened up again, this time sliding straight forward. He stretched his legs out in front of him and then a second later sat forward abruptly, frowning at the document in his hand.

She leaned forward, too, curious to know what had garnered such a reaction. “What is it?”

Shawn sat back a little to give her a better view and held up a spreadsheet. Juliet leaned into his shoulder, peering intently at the document. “See here?” he said and pointed with his index finger at a column of numbers.

Juliet nodded, “Mhm.”

“Now look here.” He pointed to another column with his thumb. His eyes remained focused on her face as she worked to figure out what he'd seen. And then it hit her.

“The figures don't match!”

“Not even close,” he said.

Juliet frowned, reaching over his arm to lift one of the drooping corners for inspection. “But what does it mean?”

Shawn's mouth opened. Then it closed. He pursed his lips and then said, “I have no idea.”

Sighing, Juliet dropped back against the couch.

The spreadsheet drifted down to Shawn's lap and he leaned back as well, nudging Juliet's shoulder with his own. “We'll figure this out, Jules. That little tidbit of information has got the spirits all worked up.”

“I hope you're right. I just know how temperamental they can be,” she said.

“Hey,” Shawn murmured, capturing her attention, “When have I ever let you down?”

Juliet met his gaze and she shook her head slightly, whispering, “Never.”

And that was when they realized how close they really were.

Shawn had pulled one knee up on the couch, his foot tucked under his thigh, in order to get a better look at Juliet and she in turn had pulled both legs up under her body so that she could face him. The outsides of her thighs were mere centimeters away from the inside of his. The faint heat of him radiated all along the length of her leg.

Behind them, the TV shut off, plunging the room into silence and, startled, Shawn jerked toward Juliet, a breath pulling from his throat as he nearly slammed his nose to hers.

They both froze.

It was a long moment before Juliet finally whispered, “What happened?” her breath tickling Shawn's lips.

He swallowed convulsively and his left hand moved to rest on her knee, only to clench into a claw and pull back against his thigh before it could get there. “Uh...” He blinked and tried to slow his suddenly quickened breathing. “Gus, uh, Gus...has it on a timer. Something about me leaving it on all the time.”

“Oh,” Juliet breathed and Shawn swallowed again, his gaze darting to and back away from her mouth.

Blood began to fill her cheeks and he could almost feel the heat from her skin as she blushed. He was still fighting a losing battle to control his breathing when he swiped his tongue over his lips.

A tiny noise escaped from Juliet, so slight he was almost sure he had imagined it. She was _so close_ and he could feel the heat of her cheek against the stubble of his like there was a tangible, real electricity crackling between them. “Shawn,” she whispered, voice breathless and nearly inaudible.

The muscles in his throat clenched, but he met her gaze, his heart throbbing at ten times it's usual pace in his chest. “Juliet.”

That single word sent a chill through Juliet and she leaned in without thinking, only stopping when there were mere millimeters between their mouths, a faint gasp slipping between parted lips. Her eyes snapped open.

Shawn's heart tripped and staggered in his chest, and his breaths turned into small, rapid pants, between which he could feel, almost _taste_ Juliet's own breaths against his lips, his tongue. His eyes clenched shut and his hand came up again, reaching for her shoulder—only to hesitate and pull back again.

Flames burned around the point where their legs grazed one another, raging up his chest into his throat and into his face and ears. The same fiery heat blazed up through Juliet until her cheeks felt hot enough to truly ache, sweat slowly beading along the back of her neck.

Again, Shawn's hand reached out, this time pushing ever-so-gently through the curtain of her hair, shaking fingers curling around the back of her neck. His head tilted just slightly, aligning their mouths to perfection, until Juliet was sure she could feel the hot throb of blood in his lips.

She could feel Shawn's hand, hovering, mere centimeters from her throat. It lingered there for a moment before gliding over her shoulder and down her arm, all without ever touching her skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake, regardless.

He made a soft noise in his throat and she reached out, fingers grasping for the first swatch of cloth she could find.

“SHAWN! I _told_ you not to tell them my name was Gilligan McGilligan!”

They tore apart from one another, hands pushing back against skin and fabric, and then a split-second later they were at opposite ends of the couch, both flushed, their chests heaving.

When Gus walked through the door, looking around with a glower fully-prepared to unleash on Shawn, they were sitting with files open, intently focused on the interiors. That was, until a rather flushed-looking Shawn glanced at Juliet out of the corner of his eye and reached over, flipping her file—which had been upside down—over. She, too, had bright red cheeks and looked awfully breathless for having been sitting around reading casefiles.

Gus rolled his eyes as he moved across the room toward them. “You know, if you guys wanted some time alone, you could have just asked. You didn't have to send me out for food.”

He was both amused and impressed when Shawn's flush darkened several shades. Juliet just ducked even further behind the file in her hands.

Gus grinned to himself and started dishing out the food.

**Author's Note:**

> This story archived at <http://www.psychfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=1850>


End file.
